


Small Time Heroes (Teen Titans Season 1.1)

by GrandMastaAce



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29167962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrandMastaAce/pseuds/GrandMastaAce
Summary: A re-imagining of the original Teen Titans (2003) cartoon.Jump City wasn't a bad town. They didn't really get crime like Gotham, Metropolis, Coast City -- not usually. Muggings were up, and there was the occasional wannabe super-villain, but nothing the police couldn't handle. It was quaint enough for five super-powered kids -- all of them either on the run, or simply needing some room to breathe -- to make a fresh start.  And, perhaps, even stop a few crimes on the way.But first, they had to find a place to call home, as well as avoid any unnecessary attention. With their propensity for getting involved in dangerous situations, however, it won't be long because they come across more trouble than they bargained for.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Garfield Logan/Raven
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	1. Prologue - Place Like Home

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_“You know who to call.”_

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**SMALLVILLE APARTMENTS**

**SEPTEMBER 21st, 2019  
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“So, let me get this straight. You want to me rent out this entire apartment complex to five _teens?_ None of whom have a credit score or paystub between them?”

Lucy, the landlord of Smallville Apartments, was young but still older than the teenagers assembled before her by a sight. By Richard’s estimation, however, her cold blue eyes didn’t portray the slightest bit of sympathy for the veritable children gathered around her. She tossed her black hair to the side and folded her arms, giving each of the teens a once over. One boy who was green, another who had cybernetic-implants; a girl with a strange red jewel implanted in her forehead, another with eyes of emerald-green and who was currently floating in the air.

They were quite the odd bunch, to be sure.

They stood outside of the aforementioned apartment complex, where they caught Lucy inspecting the place; the woman hadn’t accepted any of Richard’s calls, likely put off by the not-quite-mature sound of his voice. It was the only place in town which had enough rooms available, and by enough, Richard meant _‘all’_ , because he couldn’t have innocent civilians caught in the crossfire if the place happened to come under attack. Lucy wasn’t proving to be the most amenable host, so explaining the risk of collateral damage and day-to-day irregularities of having five superheroes living there would be a treat.

The ‘complex’ itself wasn’t exactly _large,_ though it didn’t need to be, and Richard didn’t exactly have the money for more – even with his ‘special stipend’ from Gotham. Single story, with eight rooms and a common area, as well as a basement and a decent-sized yard. Nothing special to look at, with its plain white walls and boxy architecture, but Richard figured that would play to their advantage. It was on the outskirts of town, so they could probably train without upsetting any neighbors. To be honest, the only problem with the place was Lucy the Landlord, and her leer which would give Richard’s former mentor pause.

“Money’s right, isn’t it?” Richard asked, and tried to crack a smile. Lucy was not moved in the slightest. “Listen, we’re going all going to need our own rooms, plus a common area and some other spaces for…job-related things. And our credit’s good.”

“I don’t see any forms.”

“It’s Jump City Credit. You know, protecting the city and stuff.”

“And how have you been _protecting the city?”_

Richard shrugged. “We stopped a bank robbery a week ago. And cleaned up that space ship that crashed downtown.”

“Which bank?”

“Star City One.”

“I bank with Main Street Trust.”

“Listen,” Richard said. “we’re all new in town, and we have vested interest in keeping the city safe. And, like I’ve said, we’ve got cash up front. Isn’t that worth anything?”

Lucy placed her hands on her hips. “And I have a _vested_ interest in keeping my apartments from turning into a weird teenage hostel. My dad’s real strict about those sorts of things.”

Garfield smiled wide. “Wouldn’t your pops be jazzed about hosting Jump City’s new premier superhero team?”

“You haven’t met my dad.”

“Please.” Kori floated up to the woman, all sunshine and light. “We are all…we have not a place to stay at the moment. I assure you; we will not have the ‘wild parties’ or ‘crash the place’, we will be model citizens and we will pay on time each month.”

“Besides,” Victor said. “it’s not like we have booming social lives or anything. All we do is fight crime, train, and hang out.”

An intrigued look crossed Lucy’s face, and she scanned each of the teens again, one-by-one. Her eyes lingered over Rachel, who was looking off the side, seemingly uninterested in the conversation. Richard could hardly blame her, as negotiating for a potential new home was hardly her wheelhouse. Rachel was the second newest member of the flimsy alliance they called a ‘team’, and the quietest and most withdrawn by far. She had a good heart, though; helping people without expecting recompense or even appreciation racked up a lot of points in Richard’s naturally suspicious mind.

“What’s your deal, Wednesday?” Lucy asked. “Got anything to weigh in here?”

Rachel shrugged. “I like your nails.”

The woman glanced at her nails; a purple-to-black gradient of polish was applied to them. “Thanks. Figured I’d try something different at the nail salon.”

“So,” Richard said. “do we have a deal?”

Lucy wiped her forehead in an exaggerated motion. The woman was obviously not happy about her only tenets being a group of potentially unruly teenagers, though her interest seemed piqued by the idea, despite herself.

With a final sigh, Lucy folded. “Alright, here’s the deal, kids. I want first, _second,_ and last month’s rent, plus security deposit. For _all_ the apartments and communal areas in the complex.”

“Done.”

Lucy held up her hand. “Not finished yet. No smoking, drinking, parties, weird magic rituals, fights – especially of the super-powered kind, and _definitely_ no pets.”

“What about people who can turn into pets?” Garfield asked, raising his finger as a point of order. “It’s kind of a habit, you know.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, thoroughly unamused.

“Gotcha.” And Garfield promptly turned into a mouse, hiding behind Victor’s leg.

“Anyway,” Lucy continued. “absolutely no ‘collateral’ or structural damage. None. If there’s so much as a window cracked or puncture in the wall, you’re out. And, keep in mind that in this place, I’m the whole Justice League and half the Justice Society too. One way or the other, I will have your little butts on the curb if my place gets so much as dinged, clear?”

“Crystal,” Richard held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Lucy shook it. “but we’re pretty unknown right now. Not sure if we’ve got any nemesis quite yet.”

“Well, if you happen to get one, I don’t know any of you.” Lucy let her hand drop, smirking. “And if the police – or more importantly, the taxman – asks, you’re eighteen, enrolled in college, and were collectively in an accident which caused weird genetic defects and loss of limbs.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Well, consider yourselves the owners of a new apartment…complex.”

“Wonderful!” Kori rushed forward and hugged Lucy; by the awkward look on Lucy’s face, she was extremely uncomfortable with the sudden invasion of personal space. “This is cause for celebration, is it not? You must join us for the ‘house-warming’ part – er, I mean get-together.”

“Kori,” Victor said, walking up and separating the two. “Earthlings aren’t as…structurally sound as Tamaranians, remember? You gotta cool it with that.”

The young Tamaranian placed her hands over her mouth, embarrassed. “Oh, my apologies. You are unharmed?”

Lucy stretched her neck and inspected herself. “I think I’ll live. Oh, and the listed rent’s going up.”

The group threw an exasperated glance to Kori, who giggled nervously.

“It was going up anyway,” Lucy said. “the situation with the lease is going to be tricky, and more work for me.”

“Need any help?” Richard asked. “Because I can – “

“I’ll figure it out, you’re not the first under-the-table tenants I’ve had. The _weirdest_ , definitely, but not the first.” Lucy shrugged, then threw a salute towards the property, as if this were the last time she would see it unmolested. “Well, move in whenever. Not like there’s people living there now. And if you guys could come up with a rough salary figure between the five of you, it would help a lot. Do…do you get paid for the ‘superhero’ thing or…?”

There was a collective shared glance between the group; Victor rubbed the back of his head, as if he were still figuring it out in his _own_ mind. “We’re still working the super-heroing thing out, but we’ve all got side-jobs. Under the table, like you said.”

“Consulting detective,” Richard said.

Garfield struck a heroic pose. “I help out at the Jump City Zoo. Pretty cool, if I say so myself.”

“Mechanic.” Victor shrugged. “Pays the bills.”

Kori floated into the air, spinning as she did. “I have a most interesting profession, translating the different and fascinating languages of Earth at the local international airport. Though, I wish there were more visitors from other planets.”

“Curio shop,” Rachel said. “Owner has an interest in magic.”

“Well, you’re all gainfully employed at least.” Lucy pulled out her phone and typed something into it. Presumably the information they had just told her, but Rich couldn’t tell. “Does your little outfit have a name?”

Richard smirked. “I don’t think leases usually have a field for group names.”

“It’s more for my own personal amusement, really.”

The kids all turned towards one another. Loathe as they were to admit it, they had kicked around a few names -- before they even had a place to rest their heads, even. And there was only one they managed to somewhat agree on.

“Yeah,” Richard said. “I think we’ve got one.”


	2. "Go?"

**Chapter One**

_“Go?”_

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_“I guess, in the end, there is no end. Just new beginnings.”_

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**EAST JUMP CITY, STAR CITY ONE BANK**

**ONE WEEK AGO**

Rachel Roth made a habit of staying out of trouble. Life was easier that way.

When there was a car chase through the streets of Jump City, a mugging in a dark alley, or _any_ sort of potential supervillain antics, Rachel made a point of bypassing it. No point in getting into a situation which was out of her control – honestly, she would have moved already, but she was in a unique situation at the present time. No friends, no family, and if she possessed a social security number and a birth certificate on this planet, she would certainly be considered a truant. And Jump City seemed to be getting worse by the day.

Every once in a while, Rachel would move an innocent bystander out of the way with her powers, or make a robbery victim levitate to scare the attackers off. But that was all. She couldn’t afford to be involved in any sort of super-heroics.

She had succeeded in staying out of trouble until today, when she went to pay on a loan at Star City One, and ended up in a hostage situation.

“Alright, Pea-brains.” A little boy walked through the middle of the bank, metallic spider-legs sprouting from his back. “Here’s the deal. We’re going to be making a little deposit today, and if you fart-sniffers don’t want to end up as lunch for my friend Mammoth over there, you’ll be good little boys and girls and stay out of our way.”

The eight-foot-tall beast Rachel assumed was Mammoth waved towards the huddled mass of innocent people lined against the wall. “I don’t really eat people. But seriously, stay out of our way.”

“They didn’t know that _until now,_ ” the little boy said. “Snot-for-brains.”

A grey-skinned girl with wild pink hair – the hair tied into two horn-like formations – walked past the assembled tellers, chairpersons, and ordinary citizens; pink arcs of magic danced across her fingertips. She stopped when she saw Rachel, and her eyes narrowed. Rachel hoped the minor illusion she had casted on herself before going out on the town hadn’t failed; as strange as Earth could sometimes be, her natural grey-skin and purple hair would still stand out.

Rachel felt the curiousity radiating off of the girl, a small focal point in the sea of fear and uncertainty which surrounded her. One of Rachel’s many odd abilities was feeling the emotions of those around her – happiness, despair, anxiety, they all had their own wavelength which Rachel could physically feel. Out of the emotions hoped to feel from this girl, a piqued interest in herself was not one of them.

“Nice jewel,” the girl said finally, pointing to the red ruby on Rachel’s forehead.

“Oh, thanks.” Rachel looked off to the side, hoping for the girl to move on. “It’s a religious thing.”

The jewel was a sticking point in the glamour Rachel could cast on herself. Long story, but in short, the powers that be involved in its creation were orders of magnitude more powerful than herself. It simply could not be worked around, unfortunately.

The pink-haired girl winked at Rachel. “Well, behave yourself and you won’t have to meet your god just yet. Dig?”

Rachel nodded.

Mammoth proceeded to walk straight through one of the walls of the bank, the little boy with the spider-legs following in his wake. The pink-haired girl hopped onto a desk and began filing her nails, not paying any further attention to Rachel or the other hostages, which was fine by her. Absently, Rachel wondered if the bank would give her an extension of payment, seeing as she couldn’t physically pay on the loan on the shop at present.

One of the other hostages, a middle-aged man with a decent build, took a nearby piece of plywood and hid it behind his back. Rachel placed a hand on his shoulder to signal for him to stand down; he gave a subtle shake of his head, before charging straight at the distracted super-villainess. A spark of pink lightning erupted from the girl’s fingertips. The energy wrapped around a ceiling lamp; the bolts holding the fixture up loosened and scared off a small bird who had retired in the rafters. Once the bolts dislodged, the fixture came crashing onto the head of the charging man.

Rachel held out her hand to draw the man back in, stopping herself at the last moment. She couldn’t sense anything from him. What on earth possessed him to try and attack the witch like that? Even if the foolhardy charge had paid off, the spider-legged boy and the red-headed beast of a man would simply rip him apart upon their return.

But Rachel couldn’t sense anything from the man now. Was he still alive? If only she could –

“Jewel girl.”

The pink-haired villainess was looking at Rachel. Her eyes smiled as she made snakes of bright fuchsia dance around her hands. “I’d move back to your spot, if I were you.”

“I just want to check and see if he’s alright.”

“He’ll be fine.”

“But he’s not moving.”

“The ambos can check on him after we’re gone. Sit.”

“Not sure he’ll make it that long.”

After a moment, the girl relented, giving Rachel the barest hint of a nod. Rachel scrambled up to the man, careful not to make any sudden movements to draw the girl’s ire. She could defend herself – or escape at the very least – but that would mean using her more _obvious_ powers, which would draw questions and problems to her front door.

Rachel laid her hand on the point of impact; the man was still breathing, but likely had a concussion or worse. She applied a little of her magic to soothe the injury, but with her captor watching her not five feet away, there was only so much she could do. The angry knot on the man’s forehead went from the size of a grapefruit to a walnut, at least.

“Well?” the girl asked.

“I think he’ll pull through. If he gets medical attention soon.”

“You a nurse or something, sister?” The villainess asked, a wry smile on her lips.

“No,” Rachel said, searching her mind for an explanation. “I-I’m just good with this sort of stuff.”

Rachel was never a particularly good liar, and judging by the pink-haired girl’s suspicious expression, she hadn’t gotten any better at it during her time in Jump City.

“Right.” The girl had taken note of her, Rachel knew. _‘Girl with strange jewel in her head who_ _happened to be some sort of medic’._ Too many coincidences. “You’re too nice. It’s his own stupid fault, you know. You can’t save everyone in this city, and not all of them deserve saving.”

Ignoring the girl’s statement, Rachel moved back to her spot and waited for the robbery to be over. If they knew about our powers, what would this girl do? Try to recruit Rachel into their little gang, or worse, take out a potential rival before she became a problem? Considering Rachel’s powers, or rather what she knew to be their source, such a response might be unwittingly the most heroic deed in this girl’s life.

The same bird from before was circling through the rafters in the ceiling, seemingly intrigued by the situation. A woodpecker from the looks of it. Odd color, though. Rachel hadn’t ever seen such a shade of green on…any bird, actually.

In a fell swoop, the bird plunged down towards the pink-haired girl, landing on top of her head; the creature pecked at her forehead, and the girl tried swatting the bird away. Her attack only succeeded in making the bird angrier, the small pest proceeding to peck and scratch at its assailant as the villainess attempted to assault and grab the creature.

“Get off,” the girl said. “Shoo, you little rat!”

Rachel heard the sound of something cutting through the air; seconds later, a curious curved weapon sliced through the air and impacted against the robber’s head, knocking her off balance. In an instant, the odd green bird…reconfigured itself into an entirely different animal – some sort of dinosaur -- and sent the girl flying with a flick of its massive tail. She landed in the general vicinity of the portion of the bank wall which Mammoth had walked through.

Scrambling to her feet, the villainess took a small phone from her pocket and flipped it open. “Yeah, we’ve got trouble up here. Some kind of super do-gooders.”

There was a figure stooped on the rafters above; it jumped, doing a full flip before landing on the large marble table in the center of the room, with perfect agility.

It was a boy, sleek and spiky black hair atop his head, and his eyes masked by a pair of sunglasses. He wore a blazer not unlike someone from one of the local high schools would wear, and green track-pants with a white stripe running down the side.

He titled his head towards the dinosaur, smirking. “How’s that for an opening salvo?”

The dinosaur morphed again, this time appearing as a green-skinned boy in black tights with a large purple stripe running down the middle. He made a see-saw motion with his hand.

“Eh. Not the worst I’ve seen, dude.”

The spiky-haired boy raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you could do better?”

“Oh, _my_ part was awesome. But it was a good set-up, dude, not bad for a newbie.”

“Whatever,” the boy said, smiling despite himself. “Jinx usually has a crew with her. Must be loading up on cash right now.”

A giant sack flew from the hole in the wall, flying over Jinx’s head and smashing into the green-skinned boy’s body, knocking him sheer across the room. Cash and coins spilled all over the room, and Rachel noted some of the gathered hostages sliding a few into their pockets as the notes wafted towards them and coins rained down.

“Yeah.” The man known as Mammoth walked back into the room, the little boy from before riding on his back. “And we scored big this time. Guess you felt that though, huh little man?”

The little boy snickered at the would-be-saviors. “Did you booger-sniffers skip math class or something? How do you expect to take us on two-versus-three?”

The masked hero smirked. “We don’t.”

A blue wave of concentrated energy pierced the plate-glass of the bank’s walls; Rachel felt the ground rattle and a strange oscillation vibrated through the air as the blast caught Mammoth in the chest and sent him sprawling. The bald-headed boy who was atop Mammoth’s shoulders hit the ground soon after.

Through the opening, a man stepped through – half-human, half-cybernetic. Blue circuitry intertwined with brown-skin, and Rachel quickly discovered the source of the sudden blast; an arm-cannon on his right side, smoke rising from the barrel. He was tall, though still nearly a head shorter than Mammoth, and muscular, unlike his lither comrades. His clothing consisted of a grey hoodie and blue denim jeans, though Rachel could tell his machinery continued down the rest of his body.

“Thought I’d even up the odds,” the man said, cocking his arm-cannon. The cannon had singed the sleeve of his hoodie, the man patting out a small fire which had erupted when he had discharged the cannon. “Aw man, I just bought this.”

“Even?” The little boy cackled at him. “I guess it’s _remotely_ fair now. With only snot-face and the bird-brain over there, it was just embarrassing. I almost felt bad for them.”

The girl, Jinx, came walking up; she brushed dirt off of her doll-like dress as she walked. “You guys new in town? Must be if you’re picking a fight with the HIVE.”

“Just three very concerned citizens,” the spiky-haired boy said. “who don’t appreciate you guys scaring decent townsfolk.”

“Well, I’ll give you some advice, little _Robin.”_ Jinx turned her hand towards him, a cheshire grin on her face as pink lightning bolted from her fingertips. “Jump City doesn’t need any superheroes. You’d better run back home before you get hurt. _Attack Pattern Alpha!”_

A wave of pink energy hit the marble table, the stone splintering apart beneath Robin’s feet as if a stick of dynamite had exploded beneath him; Robin jumped. A grappling hook was in his hands before Rachel could blink. The hook wrapped around one of the ceiling lamps; the boy used the momentum from his jump to circle back around towards the ‘HIVE”, aiming a kick towards Jinx. The girl scarcely deflected the blow in time, the force driving her back.

On the other side of the room, a green shape erupted from the floor; the boy morphed into the shape of a gorilla, charging towards Mammoth and locking his arms around his waist. Mammoth beat his fists into the green ape as the creature leaned backwards, throwing Mammoth’s body headfirst into the floor behind him. The ape whirled, aiming a punch towards the floor. Mammoth rolled away; from his back he picked up a glass table by the legs, and shattered it over the ape’s head as the creature lunged towards him.

The cybernetic man hurled punches at the little bald-headed boy. A turret of flame erupted from the boy’s backpack as he cackled at the man’s attempted to grab hold of him, flying around him like a bothersome fly. The boy flew backwards; a missile turret popped out from his backpack, launching a swarm of tiny rockets. Barely in time, the cybernetic man whipped out his arm-cannon and shot another blast, ripping through the rockets and sending the tiny boy spiraling out of control.

At present, the fight seemed even. Rachel figured time was on the side of the vigilantes defending the bank, as the police were undoubtedly on the way; even with their powers, ripping through a bunch of policemen and emergency vehicles likely wouldn’t be a good look for the HIVE trio.

Rachel used the opportunity to tug the unconscious man back to relative safety; on her own, the man’s heft would be too much, but with a little help from her telekinetic abilities and the man was back with the rest of the hostages within moments. It was clear most of the rest of the captives were searching for a quick way out, though not had worked up the courage to make a run for it. If Rachel would have seen an opportunity, she would have taken it – she had seen enough weirdness for one day.

_“Look out!”_

The green ape was flying towards them; Rachel held out her hands and reached for her power on instinct, but the boy shifted back to his human form before he landed, rolling right below Rachel’s chest as he hit the floor.

“Whew, he’s tougher than I thought.” The green boy shook his head like a wet dog, then realized the precarious place he had landed and slid back from Rachel. “Eh, my bad.”

“You going to be alright?” Rachel asked.

“Yeah, I think so.” The boy rubbed the back of his head, nervously. “He really made a monkey out of me, huh?”

Rachel groaned. “I sincerely hope your fighting skills are better than your jokes.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with – “

The hostages were starting to panic, started gasps and a couple screams echoing through the huddled mass of people. Rachel looked up; Mammoth had thrown a significant portion of rock at the ceiling while they were talking – not only was the shattered rock falling down, but portions of the ceiling and the beams holding it up were as well. Peachy.

The changeling morphed back into his gorilla arm, attempting to shield the hostages with his body – it wasn’t going to be enough. People were going to be injured, possibly die.

Rachel lifted her hands up, and reached out.

A shield of black energy enveloped everyone around Rachel. The pieces of rock, steel, and glass hit the dome and were held in a sort of stasis, forming a patchwork wall of debris around them. Rachel realized the only eyes not upon her were still in the midst of battle; everyone else had obviously seen her power, they all knew now. The changeling boy, still in ape form, was staring down at her. His eyes were wide with shock.

“Whoa,” the boy said. “guess we weren’t the only superheroes in the house today.”

Rachel arched an eyebrow at him, sweat running down her brow as the strain of using her powers caught up with her. “I’m not a superhero, I’m just a girl with some weird powers.”

“Well, I’m just a boy with some weird powers.”

“Look, please don’t say anything.” Rachel scanned the other hostages, making sure all of them heard her. “None of you say anything. _Please._ I-I can’t have this sort of attention, I just can’t.”

After a moment, the boy nodded; most of the others seemed to join in, but Rachel couldn’t tell. “Sure, you got it.”

“Thanks.”

The boy morphed into a smaller monkey – a capuchin, Rachel thought – and in consecutive order covered his ears, eyes, and mouth. Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil.

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Just go do your job.”

The capuchin gave Rachel a thumbs up, running back off to the battle.

Sirens blared in the distance as Rachel let the debris caught in her telekinetic field fall to the ground, making sure not to hit anyone with a rock by accident. Towards the battle, the HIVE trio were already edging towards an exit point, Jinx blasting the ground in front of the assembled heroes with her strange magic and sending floor tiles hurling at them. Rachel hoped this would be the last time she saw the girl or any of her friends – though considering that she was the one who had to make the monthly loan payments on the shop, the chance of a second encounter was more than marginal.

The little boy stuck out his tongue at the heroes. “See you never, snot-munchers.”

A shower of small silver balls shot out of the boy’s backpack, exploding into smoke and sparks as they hit the ground. A burning fog swept across the entire lobby, filling Rachel’s nose with smoke and blinding her vision. After a time, the smoke dispersed from the room, and the HIVE trio were nowhere to be found.

Within the span of a few minutes, the bank’s lobby was filled with Jump City police and emergency personnel. Rachel wanted to slip out, but the police were insistent upon processing all of the witnesses of the robbery; she gave them a cursory statement, nothing more-or-less than any of the other hostages would have said. They hadn’t questioned her about her powers, so Rachel assumed the other captives had kept their word for now.

Or, so she thought.

The spiky-haired boy, who was close-by, perked up when Rachel mentioned to the officer that the pink-haired girl – Jinx – had talked to her personally. “Jinx spoke to you…?”

It took a moment before Rachel realized the boy was indirectly asking for her name. “Uh, Rachel. And yeah, we spoke for a bit.”

“Interesting. And you can call me…Richard.” He shrugged. “Or Dick, but I really don’t feel like anyone below the age of sixty uses that nickname.”

“Right.” It must have been some colloquialism native to Earth, because Rachel didn’t recognize it. “Jinx said she liked the jewel on my forehead. After that, one of the hostages tried to attack her when they thought she wasn’t paying attention…after she retaliated, I convinced her to let me check and see if he was alright. Probably not any useful info for you.”

“Every bit of information is useful.” Richard raised his eyebrow at her. “Are you an EMT or something? I think the ambos could use another hand or two.”

“No,” Rachel said, turning away. “I just…I don’t have a degree or anything, I’m just good with that sort of stuff.”

“Well, you must be some medic.” Richard motioned towards the man Rachel had helped by pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “The guy you’re talking about? They’re saying he should have severe cranial trauma, perhaps life-threatening, judging by the size of the ceiling lamp that hit him. But he’s got a minor concussion, at most. You might have saved his life.”

Rachel gave a sheepish shrug. “Maybe the lamp hit him at the right angle? He’s probably just lucky, one of those freak occurrences, you know?”

Again, Rachel was hardly the world’s best liar; she felt suspicion and intrigue wafting from this boy, though he seemed a naturally curious sort anyway. The changeling already knew, though clearly, he hadn’t said anything, and Rachel was thankful for that.

She realized she was talking to a bona-fide superhero; for some reason, she was racked with a bout of self-consciousness. Rachel hadn’t left the shop in anything other than a pair of faded jeans and a plaid shirt, a far-cry from her usual, darker attire. Of course, when Rachel took the bus downtown, she hadn’t expected to end up in the middle of a fight.

“Maybe,” Richard said, obviously not convinced. “he should buy a lottery ticket with that kind of luck.”

“Are…” Rachel scolded herself; she should have been leaving, not asking further questions. “…are you guys like a team, or something? I haven’t seen you around before.”

The cybernetic man strolled up beside them, his arm-cannon transforming into a robotic hand. “Sort of. More like we keep meeting up at the same places, so we decided we might as well work together on this one.”

“Seems like it worked out.” Richard dug a piece of shrapnel out of his coat, smirking. “Mostly.”

“No one got too hurt, and the money’s returned. Sounds like a good day’s work to me.” He pointed one of his grey, robotic fingers at his forehead, at the exact spot where Rachel’s jewel was on her own face. “Don’t mean to pry, but what’s with the gem? Never seen anything like it before.”

“It’s…” Rachel looked off to the side. “it’s a religious thing.”

“That’s some dedication.” He must have noticed Rachel’s discomfort with the subject, as he deflected to a new topic. “Like I said, didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine,” Rachel said. “I should get going. Pretty sure this bank’s not going to be processing any applications today.” And she made her leave. Quickly.

Yeah. Rachel was definitely going to consider moving. Jump City was getting to crowded and too familiar for her tastes.

* * *

Rachel wasn’t from Earth. And as far as she could tell, she wasn’t even from the same plane of existence.

It was a long story, but Rachel was essentially on the run. She couldn’t return home, and when she stayed in one place for too long, a suffocating sense of uneasiness started to settle in. The sensation was hard to describe, but Rachel felt as if she was always being watched – the lion’s share of her powers didn’t come from the most noble source, so it made sense to Rachel that someone out there might want to keep an eye on her, to keep her abilities from getting out of hand and to put her down if they _did_ become uncontrolled.

She hadn’t felt the unease in Jump City yet, which was odd to her. With all the strangeness that occurred here, surely Rachel wasn’t subconsciously thinking of this place as home? Her bank had been attacked by certifiable super-villains, the same one she visited every month to pay the loan on the shop, and walked past on the way to her favorite coffee shop. Jump City wasn’t a ‘normal’ city anymore, and it was growing weirder by the day.

It was past time to move on. She couldn’t risk having her powers exposed. Or, even worse, inadvertently hurting others. Innocent civilians.

The boys Rachel met were nice, though. The changeling with the lame jokes, the cyborg man with the arm cannon, and Richard – she didn’t know whether he had any powers, but he was a well-trained fighter, and shrugged off blows which would have knocked the wind out of Rachel. The suspicion was clear on Richard’s face when he talked to Rachel, but she hadn’t done anything _criminal,_ right? They wouldn’t need to track her down or bring her back for questioning, and Rachel would remain just another city girl to them.

After a bus ride and a few blocks’ walk, Rachel arrived at _Miko’s Magicks and Maladies_ , an idiosyncratic little shop in Jump City’s own Little Japan _._ It was more of a fancy thrift shop than anything else, but for the more curious or gothic-minded in Jump City, the shop remained a treasure trove of oddities and rarities. A white and red sign overhead the door displayed the name in both English and Japanese, though if Rachel didn’t know better, she wouldn’t have thought the shop transplanted from an older part of London -- the peeling black wood and Victorian architecture didn’t exactly evoke the same feeling as the surrounding shops.

Rachel opened the door, finding the shop’s owner absent for the moment. Fine by her, as Rachel needed a little peace-and-quiet. The owner, Miko Iijima, was a self-styled ‘hedge witch’ who taught a coven of curious girls in her basement every Tuesday for a little extra money. Rachel didn’t exactly know what a ‘hedge witch’ was, but if Miko was any indication, the title did not imply any particular proclivity towards actual magic. _She_ believed her spells worked, and so did her ‘coven’, but Rachel was more skeptical: if a magic did not any tangible effect, either immediately or within a specific timeframe, then it was effectively useless to her. There was no way to tell whether the impact was due to magic or the natural ebb-and-flow of the world.

One of Rachel’s pant pockets started to vibrate. Speak of the devil.

 _“Rachel,”_ Miko sounded as if she were in the middle of a windstorm. _“I’m up in Portland on a day trip visiting some sisters, decided to pick up some books. Did you need anything? I know you’ve got that thing you’re working on.”_

Rachel grimaced. “I don’t think they have any Azarathian grimoires in Powell’s, Miko.”

_“Well, I was hoping there was some Earth knowledge that would be of use to you.”_

“Unfortunately, not in this regard. Our spells are guarded knowledge. If anyone on Earth possessed a tome of spells of Azarath, there’s probably someone here looking to take it back as well.”

_“Does that include yourself?”_

A good question, and one Rachel wasn’t quite sure of. “Maybe, but I usually do a good job of masking my trail.”

 _“You know, some of the sisters are interested in your style of magic.”_ Miko sighed; she already knew the answer to this one, but was asking anyway. _“Would it kill you to host a little demonstration, from an experienced mage?”_

“If one of your _sisters_ could even pull off one of my spells, someone _would_ come looking for them. Better to keep them ignorant.” Rachel sat in one of the wooden chairs in the room. “I met another witch today, by the way. I guess she was a witch, anyway.”

_“Really? What kind?”_

“The kind that robs banks.”

 _“A sister using her powers to commit crime. That’s never good.”_ She heard Miko gasp. _“You were going to pay on the loan on the shop today, weren’t you? Are you alright?”_

“Mostly,” Rachel said. “apparently, she’s called Jinx. Has some sort of weaponized bad luck powers. You ever hear about anything like that in your travels?”

_“Not really, the whole boiling cauldron and hex thing is kind of out of style these days. Was she an old crone or something?”_

“No, she was around my age.”

 _“Weird.”_ Miko let out a long breath. _“I wanted to ask you something…”_

“If you need to ask if we have the budget to buy something, the answer is no.”

_“Rachel, it’s a giant book of little-known herbal remedies, as well as tea recipes. It has a leather cover and homemade paper. It’s practically one of a kind.””_

Rachel groaned. Miko’s book-keeping skills were lackluster at best, and indeed, she was nearly on the verge of closing the shop before Rachel came along. The girl was a dreamer, and ‘idea girl’, who needed someone more level-headed to tell her they couldn’t afford a new coffee-maker and a wand made from sequoia wood with a ruby pommel.

“If you want to eat instant noodles for every meal for the next month, then go right ahead. I won’t stop you.”

Miko blew air into her phone receiver. _“You’re no fun.”_

“Which is why the shop isn’t running at a massive deficit right now.”

 _“Alright, alright. I knew there was a reason I hired you.”_ Miko giggled to herself. _“Well, I’ll let you get back to your day, Rach.”_

“Sure. Be safe.” And the line went dead.

Rachel walked up the stairs to the living space above the shop, went to the small kitchen, and put on a pot of herbal tea. Her head was pounding all of a sudden. Too many strange occurrences today, and she hadn’t used her powers like that in a while, which always put more of a strain on her mind. And Rachel still had work to do today; she hardly had time to waste in bed, recovering from a headache.

With a piping hot cup of tea in hand, Rachel retreated to her room. It wasn’t a particularly large space, but compared to the student’s dorms in Azarath or sleeping underneath a highway overpass, the room was a luxury suite. The space unoccupied by her small bed was taken up by books, tomes, and various mediation tools and magical artefacts. A small television was placed atop a pile of books in the corner, though Rachel scarcely used the device; occasionally, Rachel would watch a horror movie or documentary, as she there were some gaps in her general knowledge of Earth. She only recently learned that Earthlings were capable of space-flight, for instance.

Atop Rachel’s bed were several scrolls and notebooks; she used ink and quill exclusively until recently, as the practicality of the ball-point pen was too much for her to pass up. All of them were research notes and commentary, on various subjects. the great Azarath sages, commentary on what would be called ‘black magic’ and the ‘occult’ on Earth, the exploits of the great heroes of Azarath and other planes – mostly to try and imitate their spells and rituals.

She tossed a book to the side – a history of the exploits of the hero Malchior, which Rachel hadn’t really delved much into yet – and took the seat on the edge of her bed. She wanted nothing more than to lie back and drift into sleep, but there was work to be done. The fate of the world rested on her shoulders, in a nearly literal sense.

Rachel was going to cause the end of this world. Not today, not tomorrow, but sometime in the near future, a demon would use Rachel as a portal into the world of mortals; upon his entrance onto the Earth, all life on the world would end. Simple as that.

It all started with, as it often did, with a vague prophecy. There were supposed to be certain signs, according to the monks back in Azeroth, the foremost being a _‘falling star’ –_ as far as Rachel could tell, that could be anything. A passing comet, a meteor crashing to earth. Perhaps Star City would inexplicably blow up, the interpretations were endless. How many heavenly bodies passed by Earth on a yearly basis? The end could already be in progress, and Rachel wouldn’t know in the slightest.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on how one looked upon it – there were other, less immutable signs.

All of the combined knowledge and research in Rachel’s room was, essentially, a giant thesis paper on preventing said end of the world. Rachel endeavored to have a plan, or at the very least, some sort of way of fighting back. No one else knew about the true purpose of Rachel’s research; Miko knew the girl was working on _something,_ but Rachel had never enlightened her room-mate on the exact goal.

Unfortunately for Rachel – and the world – her research wasn’t going well.

* * *

“So, I was thinking that we should team up.” Victor took another slice of pizza in his robotic hand, nearly eating the whole slice in one bite. “I mean, we all end up at all the same crime scenes anyway. Might as well make it official.”

It was a good idea, in theory; Richard thought of himself as more of a solo act, though, ever since he left Gotham. Ever since he parted ways with the world’s greatest detective, Richard had a difficult time picturing his place in the world. As long as Richard could fight crime and help people, he didn’t particularly care about outdoing his old master or even moving out of his shadow, but being a part of a team wasn’t an arena he had much experience in.

Richard gave Victor’s question an absent nod, but truly, his mind was elsewhere. As they sat at a pizza parlor – where the patio itself was shaped like a pizza, amusingly enough – Richard kept going back to the back robbery, and the actors who played a role. Jinx, the bad-luck sorceress; Gizmo, the small and obnoxious boy with a penchant for destruction and invention; and Mammoth, who was big, strong, and not much else. This city hadn’t seen much supervillain activity, or none the local police couldn’t handle, but the city was jumping bad for some reason. The bank robbery was only the latest and brazen in a series of crimes perpetrated by the trio; there were others quelled by the police, but even those were growing in number.

A strangely egotistical thought crossed Richard’s mind that these villains had come to cross swords with the former protégé of one of the most famous heroes in the world, but Richard waved the notion away as soon as it formed in his head. Perhaps it was a simple crime wave, and once they discovered where the HIVE trio was hiding, things would slide back into a sense of normalcy. Or, maybe there was guiding intelligence behind these transgressions. Richard hadn’t any proof, however; one needed to be careful to not color the truth with their own unfounded theories and biases.

And there was the girl, Rachel. The one himself and Victor had conversed with briefly. Something about her account didn’t quite add up in Richard’s mind; she had treated one of the hostages for a cranial injury, a trauma which should have hospitalized him at the very least, and outright killed him at worst. In his time in Gotham, Richard had seen more than a few gruesome blows from the villains he fought, and luck was rarely on the side of those afflicted. The consequences of a gunshot wound to the gut or cinderblock to the head could only be obviated so much.

When Richard inspected the area of the bank’s lobby where the hostages had sought refuge, the boy noticed a strange halo of debris and scrap on the ground. These debris should have hit the assembled captives, but some unknown force had saved them. There were recent tales of paranormal activity in Jump City, such as a woman assailed by muggers suddenly floating in the air and scaring her attackers off, or people being shunted out of the street before a wayward vehicle collided with them.

Sighing, Richard supposed he should worry about the people committing crimes, rather than the ones who wished to help but not be known. If they wanted to help in their own way, who was Richard to stop them? Yet another difference between him and his mentor.

“Yo, Rich?” Victor was waving his cybernetic hand at him. “Everything good? Kind of zoning out there.”

“I’m fine, just thinking.”

Garfield wafted a pizza slice in Richard’s face, small flecks of sauce hitting his face. “Come on, put that big brain on the shelf for a little while and bask in the afterglow. We totally whooped the HIVE’s butt today.”

“Sorry, just a habit.” Behind his shades, Richard narrowed his eyes. “City’s been bad lately. I only just moved here, but it seems like crime’s going up. And there’s actual supervillains, as well.”

“Who?” Victor asked. “You mean the _Three Stooges_ back there? They’re just glorified back robbers, man.”

“They’re a credible threat, Vic. And what do we know about the _HIVE,_ anyway?”

Beast Boy dangled a rope of vegan cheese onto his tongue. “They’re some kind of weird supervillain academy. We didn’t have much information on them in the database, though; they’re kind of low profile.”

“Who’s _‘we’?_ ” Victor asked.

“The Doom Patrol.”

Richard and Victor shared a glance.

“ _You_ were in the Doom Patrol?” Richard raised an eyebrow at the green changeling. “Aren’t you a little…young for that group?”

“Dude, I’m like the same age as you.”

“Why’d you leave?” Victor leaned in, conspiratorially. “I mean, the Doom Patrol isn’t the coziest outfit, but still.”

“Creative differences.”

“Oh, come on. You can’t just leave us hanging like that.”

“It just wasn’t a good fit for me,” Garfield said. “it’s complicated. My parents died in an accident when I was little, they took me in, and I felt like I owed them for it. They’re like my family…but I just needed time apart from them.”

Richard turned away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

“It’s all good. Not like I’m the only one with dead parents.”

“Tell me about it,” Richard said.

“What about you, Boy Wonder?” Garfield poked Richard’s shoulder, his finger digging to the coarse fabric of his blazer. “Why’d you leave your nest in Gotham?”

Richard gave Garfield a blank stare. “Have you ever been to Gotham?”

“You know what I meant.”

After taking a long, long sip from his soda, Richard shrugged. “Creative differences.”

“Dude, I gave _you_ an answer.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“That’s so totally not fair.”

The question of why Richard left Gotham was a complex one, and wasn’t one he really had an answer to himself, truth be told. The reason wasn’t entirely his mentor, not entirely himself. To be honest, it was mostly Gotham City. Richard just needed to be away from there, away from its dreary, stifling atmosphere and never-ending crime waves.

“I’ll tell you one day,” Richard said, finally. “I’m still trying to work it out myself, to be honest. Gotham wears on you, Gar. I just needed to be somewhere else.”

“Fair enough.” Gar turned to Vic, a mischievous smile on his lips. “What about you? Don’t tell me you used to be in the Justice League or something.”

Victor crossed his arms. “I was one of the best high-school quarterbacks in my state, got a bunch of college team offers with full-ride scholarships. But then my mom’s laboratory blew up. It killed her, and almost killed me.”

He pointed towards the cybernetic side of his face. “My father did this to me. We had some disagreements about it.”

“Seems like he saved your life,” Richard said.

“I agree, but I couldn’t see that at the time.” Vic’s gaze met the table, a mask of blatant shame on his face. “It seemed like I lost everything in an instant. My mom, my body, my chance to go pro and do what I loved. So, I took it out on the only person who was still there for me.”

Gar nodded. “And you eventually ran away, I’m guessing? Landed here?”

“Pretty much.” A heavy sigh left Victor’s lips. “It was anger that kept me going for the first half of the journey. Then, once I realized how much of an idiot I was, it was shame.”

“I’m sure your pops would just be happy to know you’re safe, dude.”

The man averted his eyes. “I’m working up to it. I thought I’d get a taste of the real world first, make myself into someone he’d be proud of.”

“Well, being apart of Jump City’s first and premier superhero team is sure to put a smile on his face.” Gar leaned back into his chair, looking up into the sky. “Are there any superpowered girls in town? Would nice to have some ladies on the team.”

“Oh yeah,” Victor said. “I’m sure those girls would be all over your scrawny butt.”

“I’m _lean,_ not scrawny.”

Richard narrowed his eyes, rubbing his chin as Gar’s words pulled on nagging thread from Richard’s thoughts. His curiousity was killing him; perhaps he was chasing shadows, but his instincts weren’t often wrong. And there was definitely something which didn’t add up about the girl at the bank.

“Vic, did you notice anything strange about that girl we talked to?” Richard asked. “The one with the jewel? Did your sensors pick up anything?”

Victor shook his head, then checked the display on his blue metal forearm to be sure. “Not really, man. She was stressed to all hell -- elevated heart rate, epinephrine – but she _was_ just held hostage not ten minutes before we talked to her. Wasn’t carrying as far as I could tell – hold on…”

“What?”

“I just ran an analysis on the gem on her forehead.” Victor’s face contorted with confusion. “My internal database can’t identify it. Like, at all. I thought it was just a ruby or something, but the crystal and chemical signature doesn’t match up with any known minerals or gems on Earth.”

“Something’s not adding up about her,” Richard said. “she helped one of the hostages who was injured, got hit with one of those fancy ceiling lamps. But, the EMTs said the guy only had a light concussion.”

Garfield looked to the side. “Maybe it was a really small lamp?”

“It was nearly the size of this table, Gar.”

“Oh.” Garfield grinned sheepishly. “Come on, you guys really think she has psychic powers or something? What are the chances of that?”

Again, Richard and Victor shared a look.

“I never said anything about psychic powers,” Richard said.

“Oh, right. Totally.”

If Garfield could have slid under the table without anyone noticing, Richard figured they’d already be wondering where their green companion had gone off to. His eyes wandered, avoiding the two people sharing his table at all costs – he clearly hoped the conversation would pick back up, and his strange behavior would be overlooked, but Richard and Victor simply let the silence drag out.

“Gar,” Victor asked. “would you happen to know something about this girl? Something we don’t?”

“Well, she…” Garfield shook his head vigorously. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

Richard smirked. “You promised this girl that you wouldn’t tell us about her psychic powers?”

“I didn’t _say_ she had _psychic powers._ You just inferred it with your freakish perp-sweating skills.”

“But you’re not denying that she has psychic powers?”

“I’m not saying anything.” Folding his arms, Garfield looked away from Richard. “What does it matter, anyway? _If_ she has these powers.”

“Well, if she _does_ have these abilities,” Richard said. “it would line up with some of the stranger reports I’ve been getting. A person getting mugged suddenly lifted into the air, scaring her attackers away. People being pulled out of the street, seconds before getting hit with a car.”

A content hum escaped Victor’s lips. “So, she wants to help people. She just doesn’t want the recognition or the drama.”

“You think we could talk to her, Garfield?” Richard asked. “if we’re considering making some sort of team, I think we need all the help we can get. Maybe we just need to reach out to her, make an offer?”

“Not sure. It seemed like she just wanted to be left alone. Besides, I wouldn’t even know the first place to look. It’s a big city, y’know?”

“She’s a girl with a jewel in her head. Can’t be that hard to find.”

Garfield put a finger to his lips, some sort of idea coming to him judging by the sudden light in his eyes. “Actually, I’ve got something. Catch you guys later.”

The boy jumped down from the patio onto the street; his green hands had turned into paws by the time he hit pavement, as he transformed into a bloodhound and scampered off. Richard and Victor looked at each other and shrugged, holding onto a vague hope that the changeling’s plan would pay off.

* * *

A green dog running down the streets of Jump City didn’t elicit as much confusion and wonder as Garfield had expected, though he supposed that boded well for him. In a city where magic and strange gadgets were hardly uncommon, Garfield guessed the populace were somewhat well-adjusted to seeing strange sights at random; often, he wished his powers would allow him to transform into animals of normal color, but in all his years since the accident, Garfield hadn’t successfully managed it.

He figured the priority for most people would be changing his normal, _human_ skin tone to a normal range on the RGB scale, but that was besides the point.

Garfield could have flown, but surprisingly, running in dog form was actually good exercise which carried over to his human self; and, though he didn’t want to brag, Garfield was no slouch in that department. His mile was four minutes and twenty-one seconds, and he could run a marathon with little to no trouble at all. Star City One was a little less than a 5K run from the pizza shop; at a leisurely pace, Garfield was at the front door in a little under sixteen minutes.

Only a couple hours had passed since the robbery, so the bank still wasn’t open for business. A few vehicles of construction workers and window repairmen were lined up outside, though work hadn’t started yet, so Garfield simply hopped in through the door Mammoth had created when he walked through a wall of plate glass to enter the place. The only person in the lobby was the bank manager and an assistant with a clipboard in the crux of her arm, surveying the damage and assessing the cost, Garfield assumed.

Both whirled towards Garfield when he entered. He gave a wide dog’s smile in return, and went on his way.

Rachel’s spot was easy to find. Garfield brushed his nose against the ground at the center of an odd circular outline of debris and glass, and caught the barest hint of lavender. He scampered off after the scent, running through the front door and towards downtown Jump City. As he crossed streets and weaved through foot traffic, Garfield wondered what exactly he was going to say to the girl. He didn’t consider himself the best diplomat, and Rachel seemed standoffish at best; the boy shuddered at how her mood would curdle when he showed up at her doorstep unannounced.

His nose led him towards Little Japan, an area which Garfield honestly hadn’t been to much, except to pick up a date once. The boy hoped his talk with Rachel would end up better than that ill-fated encounter.

It was late afternoon once the scent trail led Garfield to what he assumed was his destination – a creepy, morbid sort of shop which seemed misaligned with the surrounding buildings. _Miko’s Magicks and Maladies,_ the sign above the shop read. Did Garfield arrive at the right place? Maybe the girl had given them a fake name; if that was the case, the girl was _really_ going to be livid with him. Not to mention that Richard and Vic knew about her powers – through no fault of Garfield’s, of course. It wasn’t his fault Vic was half-robot and Richard had a studied under _Batman_ for most of his life, he didn’t stand a chance of keeping any secrets of note from them.

Procrastinating wouldn’t do him any favors. Garfield morphed into his human form, startling a woman who was walking by in the process. He took a breath, straightened his hair and clothes, and rapped his knuckles against the door.

No answer. He rapt against the door again, waited, then knocked one last time. Again, he wondered whether his bloodhound’s nose had caught the scent of someone else -- he turned the leave, only hearing the door creak, and open, as he had his back turned.

“Uhm.” A monotone voice said. “Can I help you?”

Garfield pivoted. Rachel stood in the doorway, a steaming coffee cup in hand – the girl had changed clothes to a black long-sleeved shirt which left her mid-section bare, and a pair of dark-grey sweatpants pulled up past her belly-button. Her eyebrows were raised, though her expression was more surprised than annoyed.

“Uh. Hi.”

Rachel nodded, responding in a deadpan tone. “Hi.”

“Alright, well.” Garfield’s smile was wide and anxious; he rubbed the back of his head. “You’re probably wondering what I’m doing outside of your doorstep, randomly, and probably how I found you.”

“You turned into a dog and tracked my scent.” Rachel shrugged at the shocked face Garfield made. “I saw the giant green bloodhound sniffing around outside the door. You aren’t exactly inconspicuous.”

“Well, yeah. That’s true,” Garfield said. “I’m not here for anything weird or creepy. I mean, I know you can’t just _say_ that and have you believe me, but I’m totally not. I want to talk, about you and your…skillset. And some other things, things which also aren’t weird or creepy.”

Rachel’s lip curled when Garfield finished speaking. “You’re anxious. Like the _‘I broke an expensive vase playing baseball in the house, and have to explain it to my parents’_ kind of anxious.”

“Oh, you can tell? That’s a pretty good description, actually.”

“You told them, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t. I _totally_ didn’t.”

Surprisingly, Rachel’s eyes softened a bit. She leaned against the door and gave a quick cant of her head towards the inside of the shop. “Just come in. I don’t think we want to have this conversation on my doorstep.”

“Yeah, sure. Good call.” And Garfield walked in.

The inside of the shop didn’t inspire Garfield with any great confidence. The most technologically advanced item in the front room was a cash register, and one which wouldn’t be out of place in the sixties, at that. Strange items and knick-knacks lined the walls – more than a few skulls were among the --- and where there weren’t morbidly curious items, there were planters filled with herbs and roots. And there was a strange smell about which Garfield couldn’t place, though the bitter fragrance reminded him of a sort of spice.

He followed Rachel up a flight of stairs, being careful not to disturb anything – or worse, accidentally break something and give himself a life-long witches’ curse, or something.

“So, who’s Miko?” Garfield asked, as they walked to wherever Rachel was taking him. “I thought maybe it was you, maybe you gave us a fake name? Which is completely cool, I get it – “

“I’m not Miko, Miko’s the owner.” Rachel gave a long sigh. “I teach her magic and manage her shop, so she lets me stay free of charge. Not as glamorous a job as being a superhero, but it keeps a roof over my head.”

“Hey, I have a real job too.”

“As?”

“Animal handler at the Jump City Zoo.” Garfield gave a meek smile as he reached the top of the stairs, right behind Rachel. “It’s a pretty fun job. And pays surprisingly well.”

Rachel stopped, and from over her shoulder regarded Garfield for a moment, before continuing on. “That’s…quite inventive, actually.”

“Being able to change into nearly anything in the animal kingdom had to be useful somewhere.” Garfield marveled at the wands, orbs, and strange paintings which lined the hallway. “So, is Miko a witch or something?”

The girl shrugged. “She certainly thinks of herself as one.”

“So…she can’t do magic?”

“With magic, you don’t gain anything without losing something else first.” Rachel walked into the only open door in the hallway, and Garfield followed into a room filled with books, scrolls, and notebooks. “And you don’t always get what you want in return. Miko’s better off the way she is.”

“That must be hard.” A sudden chill ran down Garfield’s spine. “I definitely had to give something up for my powers, and I’d trade them back any day.”

“What did you trade?” Rachel asked, her voice soft.

Garfield averted his eyes. “My parents.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No biggie. Well, it _is_ big, but I don’t mind people asking about it.” Garfield tried a smile to lighten the mood. “What about your folks? They still kicking?”

Rachel gave a glum nod. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

“Come on. I’m sure they’re not _that_ bad.”

“One of them really, _really_ is that bad. Trust me.” Rachel turned her head away, her mouth contorting as if she had swallowed something distasteful. A book flew from one end of the room to the other, hitting the wall and dropping to the ground; neither Garfield nor Rachel had physically touched the tome. “I would rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, sure.”

“You want to tell me why your friends know about my powers?”

“One of them is half-robot and the other was Batman’s sidekick.” Garfield pressed his finger against his temple, where the jewel would be on Rachels head. “Victor scanned the jewel on your head, said it wasn’t native to this world.”

Rachel’s eyes widened. “He knows what it is?”

“No, it just didn’t match up with any known minerals or gems on Earth. Process of elimination. Like I said, they figured your…secret out between the two of them. Just too many things about you which didn’t match up.”

“I’ve put a lot of effort into masking my powers. Covering my trails, making sure other people didn’t know.” Rachel pressed her forehead into her palm, scowling. “To have it figured out in a _day._ Not even a day, a few hours…”

“Well, to be fair, they’ve only confirmed that you have some sort of superhuman abilities. They don’t know what they are, or where you’re from, or how many powers you have. That’s totally still a secret.”

His words didn’t seem to console Rachel like he wanted. The girl took a heavy breath, shook her head, then met Garfield’s eyes. “And now that you guys know, what is it that you want from me? To join a team? Save the city?”

“Kind of, yeah. I don’t think we’re up to saving entire cities yet, though.”

“Yeah,” Rachel said, her voice completely monotone. “that’s not happening. I’m not the superhero type, and I won’t be sticking around Jump City too much longer anyway.”

“Oh? Where are you moving to?”

“To a place where a cyborg, a former sidekick, and a boy with green skin don’t know about my powers.”

“What about Miko?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “She’ll live. It’s for the best.”

“Well, it’s just…” Garfield struggled to find his words; he had succeeded in opening a dialogue with the girl, at least, but his attempt to convince her to put her powers to good use wasn’t going well. “…up and leaving like that, it seems a little extreme.”

“If you knew anything about me, you’d know that it’s anything but.”

“Well, that’s why we’re talking, right?” Garfield asked. “Look, you don’t want to talk about your past. I totally get it. But…I _know_ what you’re feeling right now. Kind of.”

“Do you?” Rachel asked, her lips curling.

“Yeah.” Garfield lifted a nearby chair and placed it in front of Rachel’s bed, falling back and sitting on the cushion. “I think you’re a good person at heart, and you’ve got these powers, powers that can _really_ make a difference. So, sometimes you just can’t help yourself, can’t help getting in the middle of bad situations, and trying to make things better. You pull someone out of the street when a car’s rushing by, you scare off some muggers. But today you helped and got found out, and now you’re afraid of the spotlight.”

There was a subtle change in Rachel’s expression, though Garfield didn’t know what it meant. She didn’t immediately tell Garfield that he was full of himself, or admonish him for assuming he had some insight into the inner workings of her mind, so the boy took the lack of response as a good sign to continue.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of issues you’ve got, or who you’re running from. But I’m guessing between the three of us, there’s something we can do to help. If you’ll let us.”

Rachel looked off to the side; she was less sure of herself now. “It’s not that simple. I mean…you’re right, at least partially. I _want_ to help, but it’s not just the spotlight I’m afraid of.”

“Well, what is it? Come on, spill.”

“My powers…” Rachel gestured towards the breadth of her room, taking in all the dusty books and tomes scattered about. “…they don’t exactly fit in a neat little box, like you guys. All of these books are the collected knowledge I brought with me, when I left home. Spells, rituals, incantations, that kind of stuff. I spend my time reading, studying, searching for ways to keep my powers under control.”

“You don’t have control of your powers?”

“Certain aspects, I do.” Rachel said. “Manipulating objects and healing, as you’ve seen, as well as…certain others. But I’ve never _‘fought’_ anyone with these powers, not like you guys do with yours. I don’t know how they’ll react to outside stimuli, or whether I can control them under pressure. And the times I’ve lost control…”

For a moment, Rachel buried her head into the palms of her hands. The solitary window in the room slammed open, then shut; the lit incense candles snuffed out one by one, and then Rachel regained her composure and sighed.

“I haven’t lost control like that, not since I was a child. But it’s always _there._ In the back of my mind. I have to meditate every day to keep it down, contained.” The girl leaned back with a wistful smile. “It’s not as simple as taking my powers and helping beat up the bad guys. Every day is a struggle for me, and I have to pick my battles.”

“I still think you could help out. Even with your healing powers, none of us can do anything close to that.” Garfield shrugged. “Or, if you just wanted to hang out. Decompress. Having people to talk to with…similar life experience couldn’t hurt, could it?”

“I suppose not.” Rachel looked Garfield in his eyes. “But no questions about my past. Or where I come from. Understand?”

“Can’t make any promises.” When Garfield saw Rachel’s brows arch, he gave an apologetic shrug. “Rich used to work with the Dark Knight himself. He won’t pry if you don’t want him to, but he’s going to ask. Just giving you fair warning.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever.”

The phone in Garfield’s pocket vibrated; after pulling his phone from his pocket, he saw the caller ID clearly lit up. _‘A Complete Dick’,_ it read. If Rich ever saw the epithet – and, knowing him, he would – Garfield hoped he would laugh, rather than pout and be offended. It was one of his finest jokes, he thought, and he meant well by it.

“What’s good, dude?” Garfield asked as he answered the call. “we were just talking about you.”

_“You haven’t looked outside in a while, have you?”_

“Nah, Rach and I have been chatting for a little bit.” A pang of worry struck Garfield in his chest. “Why?”

_“Take a look for yourself.”_

Garfield walked over towards the window near Rachel’s bed. People on the street were staring up at the sky with both wonder and horror, and Garfield saw one unfortunate woman who had dropped her groceries on the ground – milk, eggs, and various fruits were splattered on the sidekick below.

When Garfield looked up towards the sky, the reason for the peoples’ apprehension was readily apparent. Some kind of heavenly body – a meteor, a satellite, a space pod – rocketed towards the general direction of downtown Jump City. Perhaps the near-blinding light of the meteor was playing tricks on Garfield’s eyes, but the boy swore he saw green sparks erupting from the rapidly descending fireball.

Even if any of them were capable of stopping the projectile, it was of little use, as even Garfield could tell the object would careen into the city within the minute. And that meant injuries, property damage, and dealing with…whatever this meteor brought with it.

They felt the shockwave before they heard it. The ground rumbled beneath them, sending books and tomes flying, Strange artefacts and knick-knacks were slid to the edge of the shelves which held them – more than a few would have fallen off if not for Garfield and Rachel’s timely intervention, though while Rachel could stop them with her mind, Garfield had to briefly morph into an octopus and hastily grab the items with his arms.

After about thirty seconds, the rumbling stopped. Garfield morphed back, and picked his phone up from the ground. “I’ll…I’ll meet you guys downtown.”

_“Don’t be too long. Later.”_

As Garfield thumbed out of the call, he looked towards Rachel. “Hell of a first day, huh? First a bank robbery, and now some sort of freaky comet just hit downtown.”

“I think you mean a meteorite.”

“Yeah, that.”

Rachel went to the window; the tips of her fingers trembled as she saw the scene outside. “What did this ‘comet’ look like? Anything weird about it?”

“Looked like some green sparks were coming out of it. Couldn’t see much else, aside from the ball of flame around it.” A sly smile crossed Garfield’s lips. “Seems like if there were someone with telekinetic and healing powers, they might be just the thing to help out.”

A book vibrated near Garfield, before shooting into Rachel’s waiting hand. She flipped the tome open, pouring through the pages until she reached a particular point of interest. It was obvious the girl knew – or _thought_ she knew – something about the incident; Garfield didn’t want to pry, and to be honest the boy didn’t know what insight the girl could have into a random meteorite hitting the city. It wasn’t like she had the Hubble Space Telescope in her room.

Finally, Rachel shut the book closed. “I’ll go with you."

“Really? Sweet.”

“But just this once, got it?” Rachel pointed her finger at Garfield; for a moment, the boy thought she was casting a spell on him, but the gesture appeared purely performative. “I’m not a superhero, and I’m _not_ getting dragged into whatever you guys have going on.”

“Yeah, yeah. I get it.” Garfield put his hands up in mock surrender. “Appreciate the help, nonetheless.”

The girl didn’t respond, turning and heading for the door.

“Well, let’s get this over with.”

* * *

“A little sloppy, no? I was led to believe these children to be more…professional.”

The headmistress stood at attention, in a vast room of turning gears and mechanisms. Most of the light in the chamber was ambient from one distant source or another, but leading up to the makeshift throne in the room’s center, there were a series of gas-lit lamps which provided enough illumination to see the silhouette of a man sitting in the chair. It all seemed a little dramatic to the headmistress – why they couldn’t have the meeting in a board room or even at a bar was beyond her, though with the amount of money the man was putting down, they could have had the meeting in pits of hell for all she cared.

Sitting in a slouch, the man propped his head against his fist; he wasn’t impressed with the footage of the three children robbing a mid-town bank, and being forced to retreat because of the do-gooders who showed up out of nowhere. A mere thorn in the HIVE’s side, and they would be dealt with soon enough. The HIVE couldn’t afford to have its reputation ruined by a trio of part-time vigilantes.

The room was stifling hot; the headmistress wiped beads of sweat from her brow, and loosened her collar a little. Yes. a board room was definitely more appropriate than some inhospitable underground lair. It wasn’t like the man before her was an A-list supervillain or anything, the headmistress hadn’t even heard of him before a couple days ago.

“They came across some unexpected trouble,” the headmistress said. “It wasn’t known to us that there was a group of vigilantes working in Jump City. This oversight will be corrected.”

“Oh?” Behind the man’s mask, his eyes widened. “With all the information at the HIVE’s disposal, you were caught unawares. But _I_ knew, and I am merely one man.”

“They were beneath our notice. As I said, this issue will be corrected.”

“I hope so. Because the bank robbery was merely a test.” He stood from his throne, folding his arms behind his back. “When or _if_ I send them on a matter of _actual_ import, I will expect results.”

“Students of the HIVE do not fail in their duties. This time will be no different.”

 _“Good.”_ The man wore some sort of mask, but it was obvious the man was smiling behind it. “I will send you word of what I need accomplished in the coming days. Do try to not disappoint me this time.”

The woman took the man’s words as an invitation to leave, giving him a curt bow as she walked out of the chamber. He dropped back into his throne, crossing his legs as he began working out plans in his head, blueprints of his personal designs upon Jump City. But, all of his plans and ideas originated from one point. He picked up the tablet which the headmistress had left behind, examining the paused video of the bank robbery.

Front and center of the video was a black-haired boy, wearing sunglasses and a red blazer.

“The baby bird has left the nest, it seems.” The man slouched forward, steepling the tips of his fingers together. “Let’s see how you fare in the real world, little Robin.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: "East of Earth"
> 
> When it rains, it pours: a shooting star smashes into downtown Jump City, and the newly formed "team" will have more trouble on their hands than merely cleaning up debris. And that's not even mentioning who will visit the city afterwards, looking to bring this otherworldly visitor back home. The lives of our would-be teen heroes have just gotten that much more complicated. 
> 
> Update schedule is every two weeks, more or less. Thanks for reading!


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